My Rusty Shield of Steel

This is an old blog post from 2011 and boy, is life different now. It’s amazing how much positive I see the situation I’m in now – which is a far cry away from the scared girl who wrote this post before being given the gift of knowledge.


I figure there’s a million different ways to react when someone you love dies. No two circumstances are the same, no two people emotionally identical, and no response should be deemed normal or abnormal.  However I do think there are common responses to losing someone who has given you unconditional love since the day you were born.  Provided you with the answer to every question you’ve ever had and acted as the most inspirational role model you’ve ever had, and maybe, you’ll ever get.

Some people go into depression, shut themselves off from the world and lose the will to live.  I believe that some people die from a broken heart, and some find comfort in the love of another.  A current partner, a new partner, or even a band-aid baby.  There’s a big gaping hole to fill, so someone else provides some sort of plug.  Substance abusers or obsessive compulsives lose themselves in their  obsessions.  The floaters spend their lives moving from one thing to the next, hoping that the next place won’t hurt as much as the last. Or your independent ones wrap themselves in MC Hammers trousers and repeat his mantra, ‘you can’t touch this’, in reference to their heart.Maybe I’m being too simplistic.  If I think about me I’ve definitely had bouts of depression.  I’ve certainly lost myself in a bottle of wine or four.  I’ve controlled my food within an inch of my life and I even became a fitness instructor on top of a full time job and busy social life in order to literally run away from the pain.  I’ve run away twice, once from Cardiff to London, and the second time from London to Sydney.  However, my main response has to have been my shield of steel.

I haven’t really had a relationship since my mum died.  The ones I did have, I was either clingy and needy or closed and unreachable, afraid to get hurt.  I knew no one could replace my Mum, so why bother trying to even think about loving someone again?  It’s not that I couldn’t have a boyfriend.  I just chose the ones that didn’t want to be one and ran from the ones that did.

10 years on and I have the pleasure to meet the lovely Mr F.  Kind, funny, caring, and one of the may parts to the reason I came to making my decision to get gene tested.  He made me believe I could have a life.  A life where someone loves me, where I could think about having children.  A life where I had a future.

However, 10 years is a long time not to let anyone in, other than friends on your own terms, in.  Someone recently told me that my emotional fridge has gone septic.  I’ve left food brewing there for so long my fridge has given me a superbug, and it’s function has collapsed.  My emotions, that may or may not have been released by the possibility of being in love, have gone haywire.  I have spent about three months crying.  Pretty much every other day.  This as you can imagine is not good for any fledgling relationship.

I ask him for guarantees.  That he’ll tell me where we’ll be in 6 months.  That he’ll promise me we’ll live together in a year, be married in 3. The terrible thing is that I don’t even know if I want these things.  Not just now at any rate?  The girl i knew with the shield of steel would never behave like this, never request a rubber stamp on a relationship that’s barely started.

What I can’t put into words though, is that I’m so scared.  I’m terrified.  I feel like death is around the corner, and even if it’s not, what is, is a life as a baron and asexual 35 year old with too many issues to ever be with anyone else.  I’m terrified that I don’t know what’s about to happen to me and I just want someone to look into their crystal ball and print me off a report of my life for the next 10 years, thank you very much.

So as my rusty shield of steel starts to fall apart and I wonder where I’m going to get the strength from?  the strength to not fall apart.  The strength to not push the people I love a million miles away from me and have to do this on my own.  The strength to live today as today, and enjoy it, and not take for granted this fragile life I still have the privilege to be very much living in.